


I miss you

by TheChief, YourForever



Series: Not so kinky daddy!5sos [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Oops, daddy!5sos, not the kinky kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChief/pseuds/TheChief, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourForever/pseuds/YourForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello there...<br/>We can live like Jack and Sally if we want<br/>Where you can always find me<br/>We'll have Halloween on Christmas<br/>And in the night we'll wish this never ends...<br/>Don't waste your time on me, you're already the voice inside my head.<br/>...<br/>He was the boy with the universe in his hair when we met. Now, it's gone, but it's okay because he's the world I need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I miss you

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is or where it came from. I was trying to write something completely different because I made a promise, but oops. Sorry, not sorry.

My hands shake too much and I almost drop the prescribed uppers as they fall into my clammy hands. I know I should be on the couch, waiting for his call as she finishes her breakfast. I'm already in too deep, the world too dark and I add an extra pill and swallow them dry before grabbing my phone and calling in my parents.

After arranging a last minute trip to the zoo and sending a text ( _Sorry, won't be able to call before your show. Good luck though. Call me tonight_ ), I splash my face with cold water and step out of the bathroom. I catch sight of her at the table and stop for a second, long blonde hair helping to pull be back up, remind me of my job.

For a second, my head is clear enough to almost take back that text. Instead, I snap a picture of her on my phone and send it, knowing he'd approve.

I pause for a second to deposit her plate in the sink and clean the syrup from her cheek before telling her of our change of plans. Her eyes make her war between wanting to go on a trip to wanting to stay obvious. She knows too much already, too young, and I go about making a bag for her for the afternoon to make sure she can't look too closely because she sees as much as her father.

My parents arrive just before eleven with stretched smiles and worried eyes. I thank them and assure them that I'm alright, I've just fallen and I don't want to drag her down with me.

I last until three before I hit bottom.

Three p.m. and I'm curled up on the couch, Black Sabbath blaring from the television because it's my theory that if I play it loud enough, I'll be able to go numb. Except my pain isn't like that.

My uppers do what they can. They're my crutch. In the best scenarios, they keep me walking when I've stumbled into the pit. On other days, I'm flying so high that I can't remember the uppers are there. I'm all smiles and warmth.

When he's home, I'm always flying. It wasn't always like that, but it is now and I couldn't be more grateful. He keeps me sane. She even more so because when he's off, making music and changing lives, she's all I have to hang onto.

I can't let her see me with my hands covering both ears, curled into the fetal position.

As it always does, there's a part of me that's always identifying options. _You're not worth this. Get yourself out of the way, make it easier._ When it's like that, all I can see are options. The world may be covered in a shroud, but my chances shine bright. My uppers are always on the list, followed by the knives in the kitchen, the locked desk in the office, because he insisted.

But that's when it's pitch black and I'm lost. For now though, I'm just smoky, wandering and coughing, hunting for water. Or air.

My clean air comes later, when I'm waking up even though I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep. The music is off and she's on my stomach, a new stuffed giraffe in her arms.

"Grammy and Gram-pah dropped me off. Said to let you sleep." She giggles and offers me her giraffe.

I smile at her, a genuine one because the world is smoky, but suddenly I can breathe again. Nothing hurts as much and I don't feel like I'm about to fall apart.

"Did you guys eat dinner, little love?" I ask, curling to press a kiss to her cheek before sliding out from under her and standing. Her blue tutu is sagging over neon yellow sparkly tights, but I don't make a move to assist because I know she doesn't like to be fussed over.

"Yup. Mickey's with apples.." She grins on that last word, making a move to repeat, but I scoop her up instead of giving her the chance. "Whadda 'bout Mommy?" Her eyes are too big and all him.

"Not hungry, baby girl." I make a face at her and she bursts into giggles. The world is a dull gray, but it's better with her in my arms. The depression eases up and I feel a little more wanted.

"Can we call Daddy now?" She pouts up at me and I can't stop myself from giving in, even if I know how our chat will end. He'll know. He always knows.

"Lemme get my laptop and I'll see if he's done with his show. He might still be busy."

"He's preachin' punk." She chirps out and I manage a small laugh at that because that's one I haven't heard before, but I'm far from surprised.

I set her down and she runs off to get her latest drawings from the fridge to show him while I set up my laptop. As soon as I'm logged in, Skype is playing it's too-familiar ringtone and I reach down to answer with a second thought.

"Babe," his voice is warm and his smile is slowly melting me. The gray fades and my eyes catch on the bright burst of his hair, the push of metal looping behind his eyebrow. His eyes, his lips, his mussed hair is all the same and I feel a sigh of relief that I haven't been left behind in my darkness.

The pit would eat me alive and it wouldn't be the first time those demons had their chance to gnaw on me, but he pulled me out last time and I might not survive again.

"Michael." His name is both a welcome sigh and a sudden aching need to have him next to me. Before I can express it though, his smile is drooping as he takes in my appearance and I know he can read it, but then there's a little girl in my lap and she's grinning at the screen with her daddy's hair.

"Looooook it." She flubs up her speech, even though I've heard her speak impeccably, as a habit around us. I can't see the picture she's holding up toward the screen, but from their following conversation, I'm pretty sure it has something to do with a story she made about a girl who steals a knight's armor and kills her own dragon.

I don't catch the princess's name, but I have a good guess.

"In that case, Princess, why don't you go grab the next few pages out of your bag and I'll talk to Mommy alone." She nods and pushes up off my lap and I simply sit back because she hates the idea of someone helping her on and off the couch because it 'isn't very metal' of her.

I swear.

"Hey. How's... Is it dark again?" His voice has lost it's excitement. He's worried and gentle. I wince. I should've called this off. Hidden it and waited until he came home. Shouldn't have caused him worry.

"It's not like that.."

He doesn't give me a chance to finish. "Bull. Shit. Now, Baby Girl, I need you to tell me how dark it is. Have you taken your medicine?"

"It's gray. Not too gray, not since you called. And yes." There's no winning. Not when fighting means he'll get what he wants anyway.

"I'll be home in two days." He says, almost slowly. Without thinking about it, I've managed to grab her new giraffe and drag it closer, my fingers tangling in it's fake mane. "Will you fight for me?"

Of course I'll fight. He knows I don't sink too far anymore. Hard to get close to the pit when she's always nearby, even if he isn't. Just a little bit harder to avoid. I nod, rolling my eyes. He doesn't need a real answer.

"Just make sure you call me if it gets too dark." His voice was firm. I didn't have the energy to fight back just yet. I'd have to wait till later if I wanted to, even if I knew he only chastised because was worried. "Promise that you'll fight? You'll call?"

"Promise." It's all I get out before she's back in the room and on my lap, a whole new chapter of pictures with new storylines and he's grinning again, eyes bright as they flicker between the two of us. Slowly, so slowly, the tension eases from my shoulders.

Later when I'm tucking her into bed, brushing a soft kiss across her forehead, I don't let myself fall asleep on the couch like I used to. I haven't touched the wine. All because he'll be home in two days. I can keep my promise. I can hold off the dark for two days, because she may be my air and the glue holding me together, but he's my universe.


End file.
